November 29, 1997 – Saturday – 5:30 p.m.

I am writing to the light of my very own, completely real, Christmas tree.  My apartment smells like a forest.  I’m pretty sure it’s a fire hazard and completely against policy, but I’m the RD, so whose gonna write me up?!

We saw Anastasia last night.  Same old love story, but it was a fun and delightful animation.

I spent the night there and Sharon and I got a chance to talk a lot last night and this morning.  She is an amazing woman.  She’s taught me so much during my time here.  And she even let me cut my own Christmas tree from their Christmas tree farm.  She bought me lights, gave me decorations, and I’m staring at it now.  It is so beautiful.

It’s my first ever real Christmas tree and it’s just for me.  I can’t stop looking at it.  I can’t wait for Sarah to see it.  Maybe we’ll just sit here on my sofa and stare at it in silence.

I realized today that I have so much here to love.  Christmas is about giving.  I’m simply going to give away all that is in me to my friends around me.

I love them so so much.

I want to share my Christmas tree with them.

I want to share my love with them.

I want to share my life with them.

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